A Day In The Life Of A Cat

The dog had his say in the last post, and so it is time for the point of view of one of the supreme life forms on the planet, namely the cat. As always, she gets the last word.

7:05 AM. Waking up at home. Taking a stretch and yawning. Slept well. Dreamed of clawing the vet’s face.

7:08 AM. An examination of the grounds outside from one of the windows indicates that we’ve had frost again. More leaves on the ground. Well, the season is wearing on, and all good things must come to an end. 

7:10 AM. Looking up at the ceiling. I can hear sounds from upstairs, so the staff is awake. She’d better hurry up. She’s got that work place to go to today, plus she has to feed me my breakfast, which of course is the priority. I’m hungry, and I’ve already been up for a seemingly interminable five minutes.

7:12 AM. Watching birds at the feeder. If I was out there, I’d be stalking those flying lunches right now. But I’m in here waiting for my staff to get downstairs. 

7:21 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. I greet her with head bonks to the legs and persistent meowing. It’s about time, staff, I was about to come up and yell at you. Now then, have you thought of my breakfast yet? Because between you and me, I’m starving. Are you aware that I’ve now been up a total of sixteen minutes and haven’t had my breakfast needs seen to yet? I’m just saying.

7:22 AM. Following the staff into the kitchen, explaining my breakfast preferences in great detail. Now I know that I have told you this many times, staff, but you continue to be oblivious to my requests. I do not have any need of those field rations, so don’t pour me a bowl. I am perfectly content to have meat and milk, as is. And would it have killed you to wake up a half hour earlier and put my plate in the fridge? I do so like the slightly chilled plate for my breakfast. No, I am not high maintenance, I can’t imagine why anyone would even think that.

7:24 AM. The staff puts down my breakfast on the floor. The bowl of milk is welcome. The plate of chicken is even more welcome. And yet for some inexplicable reason she persists in putting down a bowl of field rations. I help myself to the first two in the equation.

7:26 AM. Licking my lips after finishing breakfast. I have left the field rations alone. I shall let my staff eat in peace.

7:38 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch, staring out at the vastness of my domain. Distant barking out in the fields from that annoying mutt. He’d better not think of coming around here today.

7:47 AM. The staff is on her way out the door. Farewell, staff. I shall see you when you get home. If you’re doing any shopping, don’t forget the catnip.

7:56 AM. Watching the treeline from another window. Movement out in the woods. On the one hand it could be a deer, or a badger, or a bear, or, well, anything that lives in the woods. On the other hand it could be that stupid dog.

7:57 AM. The annoying mutt has stopped at the property line and is staring at the house. I tense up automatically, prepared to unleash a storm of hisses and criticisms if he steps onto my land.

7:58 AM. Against expectations, the foul hound has withdrawn back into the woods. Good riddance if you ask me, and of course you are asking me.

8:03 AM. Examining the calendar. Hallowe’en is in a few days. Which of course means there’ll be trick or treaters at the door. Which of course means some of them might have a big goofy dog along. Which means I won’t be pleased at all. Not one little bit.

8:14 AM. A cursory look at the clock indicates that I have been up for more than an hour now. If you ask me, that’s the ideal time to take a nap. As I’ve long argued, there is no such thing in this world as too many naps.

10:31 AM. Waking up from my latest nap. Taking a big stretch. Walking into kitchen. Realizing all too late that the only food out and about are those field rations.

10:33 AM. After much debate, I have helped myself to some of those field rations.

12:07 PM. Watching the noon broadcast for the Weather Channel. That mentally unhinged forecaster is back again. You’d think that after he had been pulled off the air for his rampant paranoia that they wouldn’t let him back on again. Now he’s blathering on about what might be the Mother Of All Hallowe’en Blizzards.

12:09 PM. The unhinged forecaster is taken off by a producer. His cohost apologizes for the Donner Party remarks by her associate.

1:31 PM. Woken up from my nap on the back of the couch by distant barking. A glance at the clock confirms that the mailman must be in the area. Stupid dog, the guy is only doing what he’s paid to do. Why do dogs act like letter carriers are serial killers anyway?

4:28 PM. Brooding as I stare outdoors, watching flying lunches at the feeders. Why does my staff torment me so, putting food out for flying lunches that I can’t get at?

5:22 PM. Greeting the staff as she comes in the front door, home from work, toting a couple of grocery bags. Well then, staff, did you bring the catnip I requested?

5:25 PM. Supervising the staff as she deals with the groceries. She puts some meat in the freezer, beyond my reach unfortunately. Among her other purchases, she’s also picked up some of those Hallowe’en candies in the much too small sizes. Two questions, staff. Why do they make them that small? And second, why do you persist in claiming chocolate isn’t good for a cat? 

6:38 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s cut up a plate of stewing beef for me. More of it she’s put into a stew for herself. I don’t know why anyone would want mushrooms with perfectly good meat, but admittedly humans sometimes baffle me.

8:57 PM. Lying in the living room, on the staff’s lap, pondering the great mysteries of life. Do cats get away with literally everything simply by the power of the purr?

11:25 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very well, staff, good night, sleep well, but do keep the door open. In case I feel like walking all over you at three thirty in the morning, I don’t like being hindered by a closed door. And in case a pre-Hallowe’en ghost shows up, I’ll be in need of bolting upstairs and making you deal with it.